


I will protect you

by IcyPassions



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Weather, Boys In Love, Comfort, Fear of Death, Hotels, M/M, Protective Carlos, Rescue, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPassions/pseuds/IcyPassions
Summary: A severe storm hits Austin the night after USGP qualifying and spawns a tornado. Lando is deathly afraid, and for good reason, but with bad consequences.Carlos needs to rescue him before it's too late.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	1. Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I'll soon hold a record for most open WIPs at this rate. It's not healthy. I honestly just get demotivated really easily.
> 
> Either way, please enjoy my latest idea, which 100% legit came to me in a dream.
> 
> This work is entirely of fiction. Please don't share it outside of fanfiction circles!

Heavy raindrops splatted against Lando’s hotel room window on a dark Saturday evening in Austin, thrown sideways by ferocious wind. Qualifying had remained dry, but the second Lewis crossed the line the final time and claimed pole, the bowels of the skies erupted and drenched him and the rest of the loyal fans at COTA that afternoon. As he and Carlos hastily retreated to the hotel, the storm grew stronger. Lightning and thunder thrashed overhead as they dashed inside from the parking lot. Severe weather wasn’t common in Britain, so when nature’s oppressive display of light and sound arrived on the scene Lando’s heartrate went through the roof. He hated that it affected him so. It felt childish to be afraid of weather, but he wasn’t in charge of what his brain decided was scary. He always resorted to hiding himself under sheets and blankets to ride out the elements, and that’s exactly where he was now, scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to distract himself from the terror outside.

A burst of light momentarily erupted outside the window. _**BANG**_

Thunder rocked the hotel and rattled loose objects around his room. Lando dropped his phone at the burst of noise and curled up tighter under his shell of cotton, drawing short and rapid breaths from the stale atmosphere inside it.

He considered texting Carlos. The Spaniard best knew how to soothe Lando’s frayed nerves after a difficult session or a long day of media. Trouble was, he didn’t want his teammate to think he was some weak little boy. After all, he was in F1, and there was no room for the weak there. Plus, Carlos already babied him way too much already. He decided the phone would remain face down and instead squeezed his teary eyes shut, his new strategy being to try and sleep through the storm somehow.

_Attention. This is a severe weather alert._

The aggressive automated voice yanked Lando from his attempt at sleep and sent a shiver down his spine. He poked his head out from his cocoon and watched as a line of text scrolled across a red screen background on the television. The TV had come on automatically, which was unnerving enough, and now it was blaring warnings that Lando had never seen or heard in his life.

_TORNADO WARNING – SEEK SHELTER NOW,_ said the voice with accompanying text.

Lando’s breaths became deeper and his heart pounded in his chest. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and slipped back under the covers. The distraught Brit had never seen a tornado in real life before, but knew enough from pictures and internet stories that they were terrible beings of nature.

The logical portion of his brain demanded he stand up, leave and go to the hotel basement with everyone else. Unfortunately, it had no influence at the moment. His primal, horrid fear of the storm locked down his body and he relented, remaining in bed while the TV continued blaring its alert.

~~

As soon as Carlos saw the alert on the TV, he rushed into action, running on a mix of instinct and snippets of knowledge about storm safety he’d accumulated. He grabbed his backpack and tossed a couple of water bottles in from the mini fridge, then slung it over his shoulder. After snatching his room key from the desk, Carlos threw open his door and turned down to hall to Lando’s room, now fueled by adrenaline. He knew his younger teammate was easily frightened, and he predicted the little man would be in a right state about all this. Upon reaching 306, he firmly knocked on the door. “Cabrón, are you ok? We need to go now.”

No response. His heart thumped against his rib cage as he tried not to panic for his younger teammate. “Lando, please say something!” He turned and rested his ear on the door, keenly listening for any sign of the boy. Almost hidden under the intrusive noise from the TV, he could barely make out Lando’s sobs of fear.

“Lando, please come out, we need to be safe!”

His request was met with harder crying. _Fuck._ Carlos leaned against the door, trying to think of a solution while the remaining guests streamed past him and down the stairs to safety.

After quickly deliberating, he decided what he needed to do: bust down the door. Carlos had never done it before, but he knew he needed to hit near the latch and get it within the first few tries, lest he run out of energy. The steely-nerved Spaniard turned and faced the door. He raised his leg to the exact spot he guessed he’d need to hit, then lowered it again and prepared himself.

_All of your strength. Now._

With a swift, fluid motion, Carlos flung his leg up and slammed his foot against the door, partially busting the latch. Encouraged by his success, he bodyslammed it the rest of the way open, which his teammate shrieked at.

Carlos practically dove to his side. “Lando, you need to come with me, please! We need to take shelter.”

He lifted the covers to reveal the mess of a teenager underneath. Lando stared off into nothing, tears still flowing and breathing now hitching as the crying continued.

“Lando, I’m going to carry you, ok? I will protect you.”

Gratefully, he got a slight nod in reply. The older set to work, first rolling the little pill bug onto his back and then sliding his arms under his legs and back. He was still running on what seemed like an infinite supply of adrenaline, so he was surprised at how light Lando was in his arms when he scooped him up from the bed. He looked down into the eyes of his distraught British boy, who returned the gaze briefly before burrowing his face into Carlos. The senior driver had never seen Lando in such a state, and his heart broke hearing his every sniffle and watching every tear roll.

Carlos looked back up and his heart went from breaking to plummeting into his feet. Out the window, maybe a few miles away, was the tornado. Its violent vortex hurled a cloud of debris around itself, thrashing buildings and trees about with seemingly little effort. _Ay, caramba…_

Carlos turned on his heels and sped out of the room, clutching Lando tightly to his chest. His limbs felt like Jello as he charged down the stairs, constantly spiraling left and taking two at time when it was advantageous. He had no idea how he didn’t trip or stumble with the added payload and the inability to actually see below him, but before he knew it he met the door of the storm shelter. A stocky hotel worker held it open and he passed through with a nod in his direction and a “Gracias.”

Inside the dimly-lit shelter, a smattering of guests had gravitated towards the cold concrete walls, sitting in various positions. A dull roar from the ducting provided a bit of white noise. Carlos quickly scanned the room and saw a gap in the crowd against the wall, which he then glided over to and set Lando down in. The wreck of a driver had stopped crying but was now hyperventilating as the reality of the situation set in. Carlos sat down beside him and pulled his head to his chest. “Breathe like me, nene. Slowly.” Carlos set the example, drawing deep breaths and slowly exhaling.

After a brief minute, Lando was doing the same, finally silent and calm albeit shivering. To solve that, his older teammate slipped off his coat and draped it over him. He swore he could see the tiniest smile of content playing on the lips of the Brit, which did wonders for his own nerves. The two papaya boys snuggled together warmly, finally beginning to relax.

That was until the faint roar from before began to grow apparently louder. Air ducting didn’t do that, Carlos knew. His eyes sprang open at his sudden realization. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered. He wished he hadn’t said that out loud.

“What is it?” Lando replied shakily.

“You need to keep your head under my chest, ok? Please trust me.”

“Is the tornado coming, Carlos? Oh god, please no!” Lando whimpered as the tears began to run again.

“Chico Leche, please, you will be ok. We are safe here,” Carlos urged, trying to prevent another meltdown.

The collective gasped as the sound of a smashed glass pane could be heard above them. “I’m going to die, Carlos!” his teammate wailed.

Tired of trying to refute his cries, Carlos tucked Lando’s head further under his chest and bent his own torso down over him, covering his vitals.

The burly hotel worker shouted, “Everyone stay down and protect your head!” Carlos ignored the instruction and instead wrapped his arms around the younger. He squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing away the storm as it encroached on the building. Steel beams above creaked and groaned as the roar grew louder still.

The lights above them flickered off. More gasps and squeals. The freight train sound was now deafening. Glass in the lobby above continued shattering and furniture began to be tossed about, but the sounds were quickly consumed by that of the tornado.

Suddenly, a table-sized chunk of the flooring above them was ripped up by the violent vortex. Carlos couldn’t help but look up through the hole and see bits of the hotel being hurled around. The world around him seemed to slow as he became mesmerized by the awesome display. His eyes focused further up as the roof of the building was sheared clean off along with half of the top floor.

A large wooden beam fell from its supports from high above. It tumbled gracefully down towards the hole. Only at the last minute did Carlos snap himself from his gaze and duck back down, throwing his arms over his head. The last thing he heard was an abrupt crash before it all went black.


	2. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lando opens his eyes to a horrible scene. Will Carlos survive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I took forever to update this, I was very busy these past weeks and I also wanted to make sure I took my time and did this right. I hope you enjoy it!

Lando didn’t know how long he’d been squeezing his eyes shut, taking refuge under Carlos as the hotel crashed down above them before the torrential noise of the tornado faded into the distance.

What he did know is that he was pancaked. At one point, Carlos had fallen on top of him along with some debris, and the two combined were crushing him against the floor and restricting his breathing. With all the might he could muster, he lifted himself up enough to slide out from under Carlos.

_Carlos._

“CARLOS!” Lando cried out to his protector, lying limp under a couple of wooden beams and coated in dust. He lifted the beams to the side and rolled his teammate’s seemingly lifeless body onto his back. Carlos’s arms were heavily lacerated and began to bleed onto the wet concrete. “Fuck, Carlos no… please…”

Lando’s mind rewinded to his hotel room just a short while ago. If he hadn’t been a stupid coward, he would’ve gone down to the shelter himself and not put Carlos in harm’s way to protect him. Without wasting the time of making him bust in his room and carry him down, they would have been sitting in a different place in the shelter, a safer place, not under the massive gash in the floor above them. He could’ve not been a crying, helpless child and just protected his own head. If the beam still came down from the heavens, at least it would have hurt him too and he could suffer with Carlos.

“Oooh, GOD…” Lando wailed to the heavens as the crushing weight of guilt came down upon him. Here he sat, alive and well, while his best friend and teammate lie motionless, possibly dead. He let his eyes slip shut and leaned backwards on his heels. Silent tears again spilled forth as the world around him began to come into focus.

He could hear the guests around him crying, whimpering, shell shocked. Paramedics complete with medical bags burst in the door like busting a dam to a reservoir of aid. As each entered what remained of the shelter they quickly scanned the room and went to assist those in need. A younger, shorter man in uniform saw Carlos and Lando and rushed over.

“Sir, are you ok?”

Lando didn’t know through his closed eyes if he was speaking to Carlos or himself, but it didn’t matter anyway. Carlos was probably already gone.

_You killed Carlos, you idiot child._

Lando flung himself forward onto his limp teammate and let escape a retched sob of defeat.

The uniformed man grabbed Carlos’s wrist and felt for his pulse. “Hey, stretcher here now!” he shouted back at the door. The lady there nodded and left to retrieve one while he set to work on Carlos. “Sir, please sit up off him. I’m going to take good care of him, ok?”

Lando could do nothing but look into the paramedic’s emerald eyes, rivers of tears flowing and a screwed up face of fearful acceptance plastered on, bottom lip quivering.

The paramedic, not knowing how to respond to that, pursed his lips and gave a quick nod. “It’ll be ok. I promise.” He wasted no time in looking back down to his bag and locating tools to stop the bleeding.

The Brit looked back down at the Spaniard, into his closed eyes. “I’m so sorry Carlos…”

His world returned to a blur. As the medics carried Carlos away to the ambulance, he drifted along behind them and somehow ended up riding with. He stared aimlessly at the opposing wall of the vehicle as it sped along, his brain existing in a completely different world as the paramedics worked on Carlos.

“Is this your friend?” The same medic from before leaned over and looked into Lando’s cloudy eyes with his own.

The voice broke into Lando’s caged thoughts; his brain kicked back into gear and he snapped his head to meet the medic’s gaze. “Hm?”

“Is he your friend? He saved your life. If he wasn’t before, he must be now.”

“Yeah… he’s my friend. My best friend, and my teammate. Or was.” Lando’s voice cracked on the final word and he was edging onto another cry. The threshold of tears had been drastically lowered for the boy.

A gloved hand rested on his shoulder, and he cautiously welcomed the contact. “He _is_ alive, you know. He just took a knock to the head. He’s stable.”

Sure enough, the medics had all sat down around Carlos, who now wore an oxygen mask, though still asleep. A tsunami of calm smashed into Lando, dropping him back in his tiny ambulance jumpseat. The longest breath of his life shuddered its way out and he allowed his eyelids to drift shut. The medic’s arm draped around his shoulders. “Good to know, isn’t it?” Lando nodded and even smirked a little.

“I’m Charlie. What’s your name?”

“Lando.”

“What do you and Carlos do as teammates?”

“We’re racing drivers. In Formula 1. We drive for McLaren, and qualifying was today.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” the medic remarked. “I saw billboards for that, I wanted to go but duty calls, y’know. That’s super cool! I’ve definitely gotta go see an F1 race someday.”

Lando wiped his eyes with his fingertips, having been made more comfortable by Charlie. “Yeah, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“I once wanted to be a doctor actually, but when I started medical school I realized I hated everything about hospital life. I needed, like, some excitement mixed in y’know? So I abruptly decided to be a paramedic instead, and here I am, helping Formula 1 drivers!” He chuckled and shook his head in a sort of disbelief.

A brief silence was broken by a thought from Lando. “How do you… stay happy, when everyone around you is hurt and stuff?”

Charlie made a thoughtful face and processed for a beat. “I guess… I just think of it more like a job than my life, y’know? When I clock out at the end of the shift I leave all my thoughts and emotions from the day behind. I just become me again until I clock back in, and that pretty much keeps me goin’.”

He looked back at Lando, who nodded slowly. It made enough sense, Lando supposed. It was quite opposite to how he lived his own life. Ever since he was small he’d filled his life with racing, and that still hadn’t changed. After work at the factory, he’d often come home and drive on his simulator for his Twitch fans, go to sleep, and then go back to work. It was an endless cycle, but he didn’t mind it. Maybe he would someday, like Seb and Kimi and Lewis and all the older ones, and pick up a separate life, but not today. Lando was grateful for Charlie’s distracting conversation. It diverted his flying thoughts to better destinations for the time being.

Before too long, the ambulance came to a stop and the doors were opened by nurses waiting outside. A rush of noise and calamity hit Lando as he hopped down to the pavement below. Sirens wailed in the distance and rain poured down around the sheltered ambulance lane. Dizziness crept up on him and soon he was breathing faster and faster while Carlos was wheeled into the hospital. As he was on the verge of tumbling over, a strong pair of arms grabbed him under the armpits. “Easy there, let’s get inside,” Charlie instructed.

With Charlie’s help, Lando cautiously stepped through the sliding doors and the waiting room, which was already crowded with who he assumed were people related to the storm’s victims. Charlie confirmed his observation. “Yeah, that twister tore right through town. It’s crazy.”

If Lando’s heart could break any further, it did at the sudden thought that every single person in that room had their own Carlos, a friend or a teammate or a family member, that was hurt by the terrible weather. They all were Landos, scared for their close person and praying for their recovery. Lando himself took solace in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone in it.

After a trip up the elevator and down the hall a short ways, Carlos’s stretcher was directed into a vacant room. His teammate looked on nervously from a plushy chair as the nurses hooked up his mask and IV, just as in the ambulance, and took his vitals as well.

“As before, he’s stable, just unconscious. We’re gonna scan him for head trauma as soon as the queue clears.” one of them confirmed.

Charlie knelt down next to Lando. “Would you like me to stay with you? I can if you’d like.”

He nodded back immediately. Charlie had been an unexpected blanket of calm, a source of grounding for the brit, and Lando didn’t know if he could withstand being alone with the storm again especially after his incident outside.

~~

Lando had stayed by Carlos’ side all night, but the Spaniard never woke, either from the hit to his head or sleepiness or a combination of both. The doctors said it was just a concussion, so he would be ok, but the Brit still couldn’t help but fear for his teammate. As the sky outside began to turn a shade of indigo, he felt a poke on his shoulder.

“You awake?”

“Hmm?”

He pried open his crusty eyes and turned to see Charlie, still alongside him. He’d stayed all night with Lando, in the uncomfortable chairs and artificial fluorescent lighting. The thought of the gesture made Lando sleepily grin a little, which shortly became a massive yawn. He kicked his legs out and stretched his aching muscles, then reached to the sky and did the same with his arms. It was always a feeling of pure bliss, the morning stretch. His jello limbs relaxed and he sunk down further in the chair.

“I think you should go get some proper sleep. You have a race today.”

_Oh, FUCK!_

Lando groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his face as well. The team were going to kill him.

_Oh FUCK, the team!_

He extracted his phone and winced at the mountain of missed calls and texts from the team.

“Yeah, I think I’ll go. Wait a minute- the hotel’s gone. Where…”

The gravity of his newfound situation crushed down on his senses. He pulled his legs up to his chest and dropped his head to his knees with a drawn-out groan.

“I have a spare bedroom at my place.”

“You’d do that?” the young driver asked, internally pleading.

“Yeah. I’ve been off the clock and will be at least until later this morning. I’ll bring you over. Let’s go. You can call your boss on the way.”

With that, Lando said a hopeful goodbye to the still-sleeping Carlos and they climbed into Charlie’s car. Lando opened his phone and tapped on Zak’s name in his contacts. The boss picked up on the first ring despite it being nearly 4:30 in the morning.

“Lando, thank god, where are you?!”

“Our hotel got hit by a tornado and Carlos is hurt and in the hospital but he’ll be fine, I’m fine but I’m really tired and I’m going to stay with my new friend Charlie until like, the actual morning, he’s a paramedic and he’s really nice.”

“Umm… yeah. Ok. It’s good to know you’re ok. I’ll pass on the word and get in contact with the hospital. Just be here on time if you can.”

“Ok, _dewd_.”

“Ok, Lando, bye.”

He broke into a fit of giggles after the phone clicked off, and he didn’t really know why, but the conversation was just so funny for some reason. Charlie tried to laugh along, but he obviously didn’t understand the dynamic of Lando mimicking his boss.

Soon enough, they arrived at Charlie’s. Lando collapsed onto the guest bed he was showed to and slept silently ‘till his alarm.

~~

The younger papaya driver sat in the McLaren garage later that afternoon, headphones on and music blaring over the sounds of the mechanics at work. He’d just gotten back from a rigorous examination by the team doctor and needed to space out a bit.

Just as the wild chorus dropped in, two hands clasped on his shoulders from behind. He nearly leapt to the ceiling at the contact and flung his head around to the sight of Carlos, looking down on him through dark sunglasses and with his trademark smile. “Hola.”

“CARLOS!”

Lando jumped up and flung his arms around his teammate. “You’re ok! Oh my god I was so worried and I thought you died for a while, even though they told me you would be ok. I promise never to be such a child again, I’m so sorry.”

Carlos chuckled at his word soup. “Lando, you are ok, I am ok. Do not worry, my little milk man. I was glad to protect you.”

His teammate finally released his tight grip on him and looked into his sunglasses, suddenly curious. “Why do you have sunglasses inside, silly?”

“I have a concussion. The light hurts bad right now, but I’ll be ok soon. I’m gonna stay in the garage most of the time.”

_Oh, yeah._ “Oh, yeah. The doctors told me that, I remember now. I hope you feel better soon. You’re not driving are you?”

“No way, little one. I would die of headache by the end of the race.”

Lando giggled at his rudimentary phrasing. It always made things funnier, though he still felt for his grounded teammate. He would be back as soon as the doctor begrudgingly let him, though.

A blue shirt stepping into the VIP corral caught his attention from his peripheral vision. He turned from staring at Carlos only to see Charlie in black skinny jeans and aviators as well, topped off with his golden hair curled up and to the side. Lando had never properly gotten to look at Charlie, and his mouth had now gone dry at the sight of his rescuer with his hair let down, so to speak. The paramedic grinned at noticing the young driver and motioned him over. Lando smiled brightly back, trying not to check him out and drool all over, and waltzed over to the corral. “Hey man! I thought you had work today!” he manufactured with a handshake.

Charlie smiled back. His smile could probably turn coal into gold. “Nah, your team boss there convinced the department to give me the day off for saving you two. In turn, he also gave me a VIP pass.” He lifted it from the front of his shirt to show Lando.

“Oh, that’s amazing! Quite an honor to have the boss do that,” he somehow got out. “I hope you weren’t going to root for Carlos, since I’ll be the only McLaren driver out there.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve already made me a fan,” he chuckled. Lando swore if he kept that up he’d be fainting again in no time. He had to remind himself he was in a conversation and sheepishly replied, “Thanks, man.”

Charlie motioned him closer and used his other hand to cup his mouth. Lando turned his ear to meet it.

He said quietly as he could over the pit noises, “and hey, between you and me- since Carlos is resting, If you crash, don’t worry: I’ll protect you instead.”

Lando could do nothing but nod and look down at his feet, trying not to show his deeply-blushing cheeks. He briefly raised his head and quietly returned with a giggle, “Thank you.”

Charlie lifted his hand from his pocket and went for another handshake. “It’s just my job, no thanks necessary.”

The brit met his hand with his own and felt a slip of paper get pressed into his palm. He quickly closed his hand around it and looked back up at Charlie, who was making a “shh” motion with his finger over his lips. Lando smiled and returned to his seat.

He opened up the folded bit of paper.

_Text me after the race. I still wanna see you again, dinner maybe? xoxo_  
_293-2058_

Lando stuffed the note in his pocket and threw his head back, grinning like an absolute idiot. He hoped Carlos didn’t see. His best friend always demanded he know everything about Lando’s life, especially related to love, and this would be no different.

It would be tough to escape Carlos’s watchful eye tonight, but Charlie was the reason he could still be around to be a big brother to Lando, and the younger man was willing to do just about anything to _gladly_ return the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos or a comment. It genuinely means the world to me and motivates me to write more. Thanks for stopping by!


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